


This is all for you

by liamandzayn



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Bottom Liam, Bottom Zayn, Fingerfucking, Fluff, M/M, PWP without Porn, Shameless Smut, Smut, Top Liam, Top Zayn, croptop!zayn, slight kink?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 07:04:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1679180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liamandzayn/pseuds/liamandzayn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn continues dancing, languid and sensual grinds of his hips, drawing faint red tracks over his skin as his shirt slips down his shoulders, revealing more flesh and ink and Liam whimpers with clenched fists in the bed sheets. Zayn pants out laboured breaths, his dick uncomfortable in the restriction of his sweats and it's too much yet not nearly enough at all.</p><p>(Zayn in a crop top. That is all.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is all for you

**Author's Note:**

> hiii lovelies :)
> 
> more smut because im a perv and i love to write it. rose wanted a croptop!zayn fic where he gets liam all riled up and then they obviously have sex so this is what i came up with :) hope this is kinda what you envisioned rose and i hope that y'all enjoy it!
> 
> happy reading x
> 
> (mistakes are my own)  
> disclaimer: i do not own one direction and this is a complete work of fiction

The crop top had been an impulse buy. Zayn hadn't trekked all the way to the store with purchasing that particular garment in his mind. No, Zayn had been seeking a pair of new, comfy sweatpants to loiter around the house in with Liam. Something loose and cosy to sprawl across the sofa in when they both get home from work and Liam cradles Zayn's head in his lap as they retell their day's events to one another.

But it had been the vivid, brilliant yellow and the distinct bat shape adoring the crop top that had captured Zayn's gaze as he'd strolled aimlessly through the aisles. Skimming his fingertips over the diaphanous material, Zayn had instantly thought of his boyfriend and he'd felt the natural, fond smile tugging at his lips as a result. Liam’s vigorous enthusiasm for Batman had inevitably compelled Zayn to share the same love for the caped crusader. So he’d consequently snatched the flimsy shirt off the rack without over thinking his decision and raced over to the counter to pay for his meagre haul.

Now, Zayn scratches his fingers anxiously on the back of his neck, nibbles on his bottom lip out of nervous habit and embarrassment flickers like a restless ache underneath his skin. He scrutinises the appearance of his new shirt with a feeling of ire tugging at his gut, debating if he just wasted £25 on the damn thing. 

Zayn can’t decipher if he looks ridiculous or if he is making a bold fashion statement. But he's not one to follow all the latest styles with much enthusiasm. Supposing he does want to return it in the near future, Zayn makes a mental note of the whereabouts of the small, white receipt as it rests on the set of oak drawers.

He swivels around again to face the mirror, cocking his head to the side akin to an inquisitive child, and racks his gaze up and down the stretch of his torso. His hip bones are prominent, peeking up from the elasticated waistband of his sweats; his tattoos look strikingly dark, contrasting against his light caramel skin tone and Zayn's navel is so obvious and noticeable, sticking out of his midriff proudly. Zayn swipes his thumb over it, contemplating what he should do with the perplexing article of clothing.

The issue nagging on his mind (and that thwarted him as soon as he observed his reflection in the mirror), is the amount of skin visible. An ocean of smooth, bronze torso is all Zayn can focus on.

He's used to snugly, oversized jumpers and his favourite baggy, graphic tees. Clothing that doesn’t hug or cling, instead he likes to adopt his own carefree, relaxed style. Zayn tugs on the edge of the shirt, stretching out the material until it reaches the band of his joggers then lets it spring back to its original length.

'Do guys even wear crop tops?' he asks himself internally, pursing his lips at the sight before him, although he did find it in the male section of the store. Zayn shrugs to nothing in particular and resolves that it's no big deal. It's just a shirt, well a very short shirt.

However Zayn's notes the lean muscle of his abs as he shifts his hips and the soft lighting in the room accentuates the hollows and dips. A sense of pride quietens the aggravating voice in his head appealing that he take off the crop top, because he, Zayn, has abs. He realises he has yet to achieve Liam's impressive six pack, although for Zayn it is an accomplishment. He detests sweating it out at the gym and prefers nothing more than nestling into Liam's side whilst they absorb themselves in Marvel DVD marathons and gorge on their favourite Chinese take-out.

Zayn feels the ever familiar warmth swell pleasantly in his chest when he thinks about Liam; Liam is his home, and the reason Zayn finds himself grinning like a love struck teen all the time. 

He considers how mellow and increasingly sappy he has become since his first encounter with Liam in a night club three years ago. Prior to that night, Zayn had never had a serious, long term relationship because he never felt like the person was right for him. There was always something, and frequently Zayn couldn’t put his finger on what exactly it was, that was off.

Now Zayn thinks back on it and concludes that it was because he had yet to meet Liam, the man who had changed everything. He'd turned Zayn's entire life on its head and he'd been certain from the very start that Liam was it for him. It was instant, like all the scattered, disorientated pieces of Zayn’s life had suddenly slotted perfectly into place like a jigsaw.

Zayn cherishes his boyfriend's kind and amiable nature, (Liam often smiles at strangers in the street simply because he wants to make other people smile as well) and how earnest and utterly fearless he is in his love for Zayn, Liam is blazing star shooting across the drab night sky, leaving a trail of brightness and white heat in its wake.

The reminiscent thoughts cause Zayn’s heart to stutter, his mouth curves upwards and suddenly he doesn’t feel as irked about wasting his money on the top anymore, the thought distant and pushed neatly to the back of his mind. Instead he yearns for his boyfriend’s soothing presence, strong arms and soft, plump lips against his own.

He flushes as he remembers their parting kiss earlier that day, and Liam had pressed the length of his body against Zayn’s, aligning their hips so they could easily rock against each other. Zayn had grabbed fistfuls of Liam’s shirt and chased the lingering taste of peppermint in his mouth before Liam had left him gasping for breath as he vanished out of the door and Zayn had clutched aimlessly at the wall in a vain attempt to steady the rapid fluttering of his heart.

However, the fact that Liam works Saturday afternoons dampens his radiant mood, like clouds blocking the sun's rays and his shoulders slouch dramatically with a huff.  
Zayn curses the vast, open space of their apartment, everything feels too big and silent, and Liam isn’t there to fill it with soft giggles and the tuneful humming that Zayn has grown attached to. When did he become so dependent on Liam’s presence? Liam hasn’t even been gone that long and Zayn is already suffocating on the void of emptiness he has left behind.

Deciding he needs to distract himself, Zayn opts to add the finishing details to his recent drawing. He pads over to their balcony with his sketchbook and pencil in his hand and situates himself on the cool metal chair, hissing as the exposed skin of his back comes into contact with the seat.

Fortunately, it’s a mild summer’s afternoon, and Zayn relishes the tepid heat as it sinks into his skin and alleviates his tense muscles. He tilts his head back a fraction to feel the gentle breeze caress his face, and is pleased he had chosen to wear the crop top as cool air wafts over his exposed stomach. A shiver ripples through his body like waves languish over the sand.

Sometime after shading in the final piece of his sketch, (Liam’s stubble needed more tone and Zayn had been distressed for days because he just couldn’t get it to look real enough to appease his perfectionism) Zayn had collapsed forward onto his folded arms and slipped off into a light slumber.

He dreams of Liam, of course he does, because Zayn’s conscious thoughts are continuously brimming with Liam, snippets of his rich, autumnal brown eyes and his infectious, hearty chuckle, therefore, undoubtedly his unconscious mind conjures up the same thoughts. 

Something rouses Zayn out of his dream state, tender sweeps of pressure over the arch of his brow, along the highs of his cheekbones and flicks of moisture dance across his forehead. Zayn recognizes Liam’s cologne and natural, woody scent before he has to open his eyes. When he does, Liam presses one last kiss on the tip of Zayn’s nose and retreats slowly, leaving mere inches separating the two of them. He beams at Zayn, his eyes alight with mirth and crinkling in the corners, and Zayn feels the air splutter out of his lungs. He looks stunning.

“Hey sleepy head,” murmurs Liam, crouching down next to Zayn, one of his arms resting against the back of the chair.

“Hey baby,” Zayn rubs the drowsiness from his eyes with his knuckles and flashes a pleased grin at Liam, his muscles go soft with relief because Liam is home finally.

“What have you been doing this afternoon?” Liam inquires, his voice quiet and soft like morning sunshine and lifts the balls of his feet to get a better look.

Zayn itches to fling his arms over his drawing out of embarrassment but the eager curiosity in Liam’s eyes persuades Zayn that there is nothing to worry about, despite feeling unsatisfied that his drawing does not do Liam’s beauty any justice. Zayn tilts the book towards Liam and mumbles, “Ta-da.” 

He focuses his gaze on the expansion of taut muscle moving under the stretch of Liam’s shirt, drinking in the long lines of those arms flecked with gold from the sun until he is drowning in his own need to lick the sheen off of Liam’s skin.

“Babe this is great!” Liam gasps, his tone high and laced with delight. “It looks so real, it’s ace.”

A muted crimson stains Zayn’s cheeks and the tips of his ear, he muffles his giggle into where Liam’s neck meets his shoulder and chokes on the simple words ‘thank you’.

He smiles a little lopsided and is positive that Liam would never express his dislike for anything that Zayn creates, no matter how awful it could be, Liam would still smile wide and enamoured and tell him that he is wonderful, talented and extraordinary in everything he does.

“Love you,” Zayn stamps the statement into Liam’s skin with chaste kisses, keen to assure Liam that he’s grateful for the never ending encouragement, and that it will always be ZaynandLiam.

“I love you too, Zayn,” he brushes his hand down Zayn’s back, the movement leisurely and pacifying, and it travels lower until Zayn feels his calloused fingers skimming the contours of his naked spine. He suppresses a whimper, astonished in the best way possible that Liam still has this mind hazing effect on him.

Despite years of touching, kissing and learning the secret nooks on each other’s bodies, like behind Zayn’s knee for instance, that whenever Liam blows a stream of air against the delicate skin Zayn’s eyes still roll back in his skull and he has to bite down on a groan.

“I love this shirt as well,” Zayn can hear the smile in Liam’s voice. “Very sexy.” Soft fingers scribe their goofy pet name for one another onto Zayn's bare stomach and his breath hitches.

“Do you really?” Zayn hums teasingly, desire catches in his throat, and he wants Liam to crouch lower until he’s faced with Zayn’s semi hard dick and tongue the slit until his bones quiver and gut clenches like a vice.

Thankfully Liam seems to sense the urgency, he can read Zayn like an open book, and drags his nose up the column of his neck to the shell of his ear as if he can smell Zayn’s arousal bubbling in his cells. Zayn nips Liam’s bicep between his thumb and forefinger in a silent plea of ‘please’ and ‘I need you’, then feels the flick of Liam’s tongue, hot and needy, on the sensitive patch of skin behind his ear. 

“Inside. Now.” He manages to grit out whilst shoving his palm against his rapidly growing erection in attempts to ease the ache. Although he would much prefer Liam’s big hand wrapped in a fist around him instead, dragging his textured skin slowly up and down his dick. Zayn whines at the thought.

They get inside the bedroom, Liam slamming the door shut and tugging the curtain across to shield them away from the rest of the world, sealing them in their own, small cocoon. Something warm glows in Zayn’s chest that’s whispers ‘home’ and ‘safety’. 

Liam’s mouth is on his in an instant, licking his way inside and breathing the air out of Zayn’s lungs. Instinctively, Zayn’s mouth opens wider, desperate for more- more of Liam’s tongue tracing his teeth, more of the sugary sweet taste that he craves every minute of the day.

They manoeuvre through grasping hands and rutting cocks over to the bed and Liam falls gracefully onto the duvet, pulling Zayn into the vee of his legs. Zayn tilts his head forward until his chin tucks against his collarbone and gnaws at his lip at the sight of Liam’s wide, bottomless eyes, the slick of rose brushed over his cheekbones and his swollen lips parted as he gasps for air. A moan steals its way from Zayn's mouth, his dick twitches behind the thick material of his joggers, pushing against the confines and he needs them both naked like five minutes ago.

Liam grips Zayn’s hips with firm fingers and gentle grazes of thumbs, and Zayn watches with fascinated eyes as Liam leans closer, sneaking his tongue along the grooves of his abs, deft strokes over tattoos as if he wants to taste the ink staining Zayn’s skin. 

“Fuck, I really love this shirt,” he breathes into Zayn's navel, something close to awe in his voice that makes the words sound as beautiful as poetry.

“Li,” whines Zayn, drawing out the syllable until he can taste the name in the back of his throat and his heart trembles.

“Don't want you to take it off, babe,” Liam murmurs, licking a torrent of fire along the line where material meets skin and nips the ladder of Zayn's ribs with sharp teeth.

Digging blunt nails into Liam’s shoulders, Zayn swallows his bone rattling groan, instead shimmies his hips until his dick is eye level with Liam, an unspoken beg for him to just touch and take.

Zayn lets slip a strangled cry as Liam mouths at the fabric of his sweats, the sound echoes around the quiet room and rings alive in Zayns's ear. Hot pressure teases the head of his dick and despite the layers between them, Zayn’s knees still buckle due to the blinding pleasure.

Liam continues his assault, brief swirls of tongue and nosing at the base, until Zayn’s skin feels too constricting and stretched tight over his bones. He pushes Liam back away from his cock so he doesn’t streak the front of his pants with sticky come and nods at him to shuffle further up the bed.

An idea strikes Zayn and in his dazed state of arousal he doesn't think twice about his awkwardness or the certain discomfort he would feel under any other circumstance.  
He wants to put on a show for Liam, (seen as he has a thing for the crop top), to get him riled up and withering with need, make him plead with dilated eyes for Zayn to stretch him open with his cock. 

Zayn stumbles back a few steps with uncoordinated limbs and heart pounding like a drum against the caging of his ribs, but Liam's line of vision never strays from him. Zayn begins slowly, rolling his hips forward in small circles and drags his tips of his fingers over the expansion of bare skin, tracing random patterns that Liam tracks with starved eyes and flashes of teeth nibbling his bottom lip.

He makes timid thrusts into the air, wishing he was rubbing his dick against Liam's but he's too far away and Zayn needs to make this the best he can for him. He runs his hands up his stomach and pinches his nipples with soft pressure, enough to warrant a barely audible gasp from his lips and his head lolls back.

“Zayn,” Liam groans as if he is in physical pain, he has a hand shoved down the front of his pants and Zayn can see the spot of pre come dyeing the material a shadowy colour. 

“Don't want you touching yourself yet, baby,” Zayn's voice is choked with lust, vibrating low and gruff in his throat, and feels a spark of envy ignite in the pit of his stomach because he wants to be the one touching Liam, wants his heavy, thick cock in his grip.

Zayn continues dancing, languid and sensual grinds of his hips, drawing faint red tracks over his skin as his shirt slips down his shoulders, revealing more flesh and ink and Liam  
whimpers with clenched fists in the bed sheets. Zayn pants out laboured breaths, his dick uncomfortable in the restriction of his sweats and it's too much yet not nearly enough at all.

“Zee, fuck please I-” Liam says around another whimper, the sound sending heat singing through Zayn's veins and straight to his dick. “I'm gonna come in like five seconds and you haven't even touched me yet. Please-”

“What do you want Leeyum?” he asks, inching steadily closer to the bed, his dancing forgotten, overruled by his desperate craving to touch and taste and just immerse himself in Liam.

“You, just you,” Liam exclaims, his face flushed with arousal and a light lustre of perspiration across his forehead, Liam splays his legs invitingly and really, how can Zayn resist?

He almost flings himself onto the bed, his movement frenzied in his haste and Liam chuckles as he lifts a hand to steady Zayn when he nearly topples off the edge. Zayn settles his hips over Liam's, his knees bracketing the thrumming, breathless body beneath him. He leans down at the exact moment Liam stretches upwards and they grin in the kiss, tongues swirling, seeking out the heat and wetness, and it's filthy and sloppy but it's completely perfect.

Zayn skims his lips across Liam's jaw, swollen flesh tingling under the prickly stubble and kisses down his neck, sucking purple bruises that scream 'mine' (because he is a possessive git) into Liam's arched neck. He's resolute in the knowledge that Liam loves being marked, loves the scratches and bites, proud to show the world that he is with Zayn.

Zayn feels dull nails comb through his hair, delicious scrapes and tugs along his scalp and he rocks his groin down into Liam, the friction licks fire up his spine. He tosses Liam's shirt off, eyes and lips devouring his broad chest, the muscle firm yet supple under his tongue and he journeys lower, paying special attention to his glorious abs, sneaking moisture into the small canyons of his skin.

Liam chokes out a gargled sound when Zayn grazes his teeth down his happy trail, he presses his nose further into Liam, intoxicated by the heady scent that grows more prominent the closer he gets to Liam's dick. 

“Less clothes,” Liam breathes, his hands already attempting to jerk his pants down his hips. 

Zayn smirks but assists him, lifting up to tug them, as well as Liam's boxers, all the way off and discards them somewhere over his shoulder. He's unaware of the moan that slips off his tongue, engrossed by Liam's fattening cock leaking out a stream of precome and his tongue darts out to swipe against his lips. Zayn seizes forward and captures Liam's dick fully into his mouth, hips stuttering into the duvet as the slight bitterness seeps into his taste buds. 

He can tell Liam is trying to hold back, Zayn can feel him placing his feet firmly into the bed, linen sheets in his fists to stop himself from rutting up and choking Zayn. He pulls off and takes a deep inhale of air into his lungs before flicking his tongue over the head, gathering up the precome then slides his mouth fully over Liam's dick, hollowing out his cheeks to create a tighter pressure and faster rhythm.

“Zayn,” he can detect the glimmer of warning in Liam's voice, feels the tension locking his muscles in place and knows Liam is close.

Not wanting Liam to come before he's had the chance to feel him around his dick, Zayn pulls off with a pop as his lips smack together and he swallows the lingering taste of Liam in his mouth. He rubs Liam's calf with the pad of his thumb, soothing strokes that read 'I've got you babe'.

Liam forcibly shoves Zayn's sweats down his slender hips, brushing his palm over Zayn's covered erection that has him throwing his head back with an undignified whimper, and he lets Liam shed him of his underwear until all he's left in is the crop top. A wicked grin spreads across Liam's face, his pupils blown wide with lust, and he yanks the edge of the shirt with needy fingers and asks, “This stays on, yeah?”

Zayn nods frantically, gripping the base of his cock before Liam's words and his blatant kink for Zayn in the crop top can make him paint Liam's chest prettily in his come. He reaches over Liam to delve into the bedside drawers in search of the lube, Liam takes advantage of the position, snaking his tongue over Zayn's nipple, his fingers stamping white prints into his hips and Zayn hisses when Liam bites down on the tender bud.

“Fuck,” he shakes his head, as if to clear the mist in front of his eyes and retrieves the lube, promptly slicking up a finger before either he or Liam combust.

They pause for a moment, Liam allowing Zayn to warm the lube up marginally, and they are able to even out their shallow breaths. Zayn buries his face in the crook of Liam's neck, sucking the saltiness of his sweat as he pushes a finger inside Liam. He feels the groan reverberate in Liam's chest, the tremors coursing through Zayn where they are pressed together.

After giving Liam time to adjust, Zayn slides in another digit, crooking them just right to brush his sweet spot and Liam's spine curves off the bed when he finds it. Zayn rubs his dick against Liam's hip, seeking any kind of friction to curb the overwhelming arousal clenching his bones, begging him to just take Liam and fuck into him like an animal.

Zayn is relentless with his pace, adding a third finger when Liam claws at his back and thrusts his hips up to meet Zayn's fingers, he kisses the scorching desperation from Liam's eyes, pressing indents into his fleshy thigh that say 'so fucking amazing' and 'I've still got you, it's okay'.

But he knows Liam, he can read the signs that he's on the edge and about to jump head first into the abyss of euphoria, so Zayn retracts his fingers and places a wet kiss over Liam's heart. He fumbles with the lube, limbs uncooperative and heavy, until he finally manages to slick his cock in the glossy, cool substance.

Balancing his weight on one arm, Zayn lines his dick up at Liam's loose, pink hole, shaking with the effort to stop himself from plunging straight in without inhibition, instead he leans closer, peppering Liam's face and neck with loving kisses and breaches the tight ring of muscle, his movements gradual and smooth. The heat surrounding his dick is indescribable, Liam clenches around him as if to say 'hurry up, I can take it', and the tightness makes Zayn's head swim and eye lids flutter shut. 

Once he's buried to the hilt, Zayn waits, counts to ten in his head, then pulls out halfway before thrusting back in. Liam's name catches in his throat but he can't get the words out, can only moan helplessly and shiver when Liam pushes his hips down to meet him thrust for thrust. He gnaws at his bottom lip, glancing at Liam through heavily lidded eyes and they grin at each other, bashful and soft as if they were sharing a candle lit dinner, not fucking each other senseless. 

Liam winds his arms around Zayn's neck, pressing their chests flush together and tangles his fingers in Zayn's hair, tugging the strands enough to arch his neck, the tendons straining and Zayn keens. Liam's other hand gathers a fistful of Zayn's crop top, his knuckles white with pressure and he sucks the delicate skin worn over Zayn's clavicle as it peeks out from the neck of his shirt.

Zayn snaps his hips forward into Liam's ass quicker, losing control of his movements, instead being swept up in the wave of mind numbing pleasure washing over him. The bed protests underneath them, creaking from the exertion but the whole frame could collapse for all Zayn cares, it wouldn't stop them.

Zayn can feel Liam kneading his ass, pushing his dick deeper inside him, and Zayn is overwhelmed by how exquisitely tight Liam feels, his walls dragging along Zayn's cock and he's so close he can taste his orgasm every time he swallows down an embarrassingly loud cry. He latches his teeth onto Liam's shoulder, hard enough to draw blood, when the pads of Liam's fingers dance over his hole and Zayn simultaneously thrusts up into Liam and downwards to seek out his fingers. 

“Shit, Li-” he stutters, his rhythm irregular and the jabs Zayn is aiming against Liam's prostate become less precise. 

Zayn hears the lid of the lube bottle pop open and something squelching, his brain short circuits when everything clicks into place as Liam rubs a slippery finger over his hole and then eases its way inside Zayn. He is powerless to quash the wanton sob torn from his lungs and he fucks into Liam with hard, swift strokes, his pace erratic and Zayn is just about sure that he's gone insane.

“F-fucking hell,” Zayn manages to gasp, he's never felt anything as amazing as this in his life, fucking the gorgeous, pliant man beneath him as Liam adds a second finger and fucks Zayn with them.

Zayn's biceps struggle to support him as he hovers over Liam, tendrils of burning fire latch onto his muscles and he desperately needs to come before his arms collapse. Liam seems to notice the fine tremors racking through Zayn's body so he flips them over unexpectedly, the air whooshes out of Zayn's lungs as he lands on his back, blinking with wide, dazed eyes up at Liam, disorientated with the change of position.

Those thick fingers are no longer seated in Zayn's ass and he whines at the loss, itching to have something filling him up again. He positively growls when Liam slips off his dick, greedy hands reach to yank him back but Liam is too far out of reach and Zayn has no energy left.

“Leeyum, what the fu-” he chokes on his words, throat seizing up and splutters out a gasp when Liam brushes the head of his cock against Zayn's rim, before pushing all the way inside in one smooth motion. 

Zayn's back arches off the bed like a bow, almost snapping his spine in half with the force of it as Liam pounds into him, his thrusts merciless and solid, hitting Zayn's sweet spot dead on every time. He can feel every inch of Liam's dick dragging in and out, in and out, never stopping.

Liam rucks Zayn's shirt up under his arm pits, leaning forward to slurp enthusiastically on his nipple, teases the bud between his teeth and Zayn brings his head up to slot their mouths together. Zayn can't call it a kiss, not really, it's dirty and messy and so hot that Zayn's toes curl as he traces the roof of Liam's mouth with his tongue.

They continue breathing each other's air, lips sliding in a languid dance with nips of teeth and Liam tugs at the crop top as if he's unsure as to whether he wants to rip it off or keep Zayn in it.

“Yeah- Li. Fuck!” he moans when a particularly forceful thrust brushes his prostate. He is drunk on the feeling of Liam's heavy weight pressing down on him, his head buzzing as if he'd just downed a shot of tequila and Liam's slitted eyes smoulder brazenly with raw lust and something softer, more meaningful. 

Zayn is delirious with his love for the man, his heart feels like its expanding, forcing its way out of his ribs, pushing his unnecessary organs aside, until all Zayn can feel, in every part of his body, is his soul consuming adoration for Liam.

His own dick is curved towards his lower abs, scorching red and oozing pearly droplets of precome that stain both their stomachs. Zayn's eye roll back into his skull with every glide of his dick against the grooves of Liam's six pack, just enough friction to keep him holding on but not enough to catapult him over the edge.

“You close, baby?” Liam asks, manages to envelope Zayn's cock with his hand, the calloused texture is perfect against his dick, has Zayn withering and grabbing at the sheets with one hand and the other massaging the flesh of Liam's ass.

Before he can stammer out a reply, Liam flicks his wrist over the head of Zayn's dick, and combined with a hard, deep thrust that Zayn feels in the back of his throat, his stomach tightens. He wraps his spindly legs around Liam's torso to cage him in, bites at the sharp line of his jaw to muffle his scream as he comes all over Liam's fist, his vision white and hazy around the edges. Zayn wonders if he actually died from the intensity of the orgasm and has gone to heaven. It sure feels that way.

“Zee fuck- you look, gah-” Liam grunts, the rhythm of his hips faltering as he comes hot and fast inside Zayn, filling him up and Zayn kisses Liam through it with gentle swipes of tongue and whispers of 'love you babe'.

All Zayn wants is to keep Liam trapped inside him, his heat surrounding him, making him dizzy with bliss but Liam has other ideas. He carefully pulls out and flops his exhausted body down next to Zayn, wrapping him up in his strong arms and Zayn purrs with content, not bothering about the layer of wetness striped across their stomachs. He never wants Liam to let him go, could stay like this for the rest of eternity because that's how long he plans to keep Liam for.

Zayn is reminded of the come slowly trickling out of his abused hole when Liam eases a finger back in, keeping him stuffed and sated, and despite feeling sensitive and slightly broken, he stifles his moan into Liam's chest when soft fingers find his prostate.

“I think you ruined me,” Liam grins, the highs of his cheeks and tip of his nose a satiny blossom shade.

Zayn chuckles and shakes his head because no, Liam has wrecked him beyond his wildest dreams and mainly because of the crop top. He praises the power of the shirt, runs his fingers over the now damp, sweat soaked material and vows to keep it safely tucked in his drawer for future use.

“If I wear the shirt again, can we keep having sex like this?” Zayn giggles into the expansion of Liam's toned chest, dragging his tongue over the remaining drops of perspiration.

Liam tilts his head down for a searing kiss, his lips bruising against Zayn's and Zayn realises that yes, is his answer.

**Author's Note:**

> this was pretty self indulgent to be fair, but what are your thoughts? I'd love to hear them :)  
> thanks for reading guys *hugs and kisses*


End file.
